Invaluable
by angelinconflict
Summary: Fourth part in series 2 finds Dean on the edge of a life-changing decision involving Cas. Meanwhile,a gruesome murder has taken place with a demon being number one on the suspect list, but questions arise when something seems off about this latest hunt.


Sam felt a knot in his chest when he awoke. The knot had been there for a while, at least since the time he found out that Dean loved a certain angel—a friend of theirs, a friend of his, an ally to all of them. The knot emerged out of learning that Dean had kept something from him, something private, covering it up with a ridiculous lie. Dean had kissed Castiel, resulting in exploding windows and a wounded Impala. Sure, Sam figured once the secret was out that things would change, but he never expected this. Castiel did not make regular appearances, in fact, Sam saw the angel once a month if that, but Dean and Castiel shared a profound bond, and with Castiel now harbouring a piece of Dean's soul, they were able to communicate by sending thoughts to one another. Soon after discovering this, Dean also discovered that he could understand angel-speak- Enochian.

Now, six months into this relationship, Dean, though unchanged in attitude and gruffness of manner, was different. They still hunted whenever a job presented itself, but Dean was caught dazing a lot when they weren't on a job.

This morning, Sam found Dean in the kitchen just staring out the window, hands on the counter. Both had a habit of sleeping in their clothes so his jeans and t-shirt looked rumpled.

"Anything interesting out there?" he commented, taking a seat at the table.

"Nope," Dean replied nonchalantly.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam started, folding his arms, "You think maybe we should talk about this whole thing?"

Dean's voice was distant. "What whole thing, Sammy?"

"I dunno… your thing… with Cas."

Dean turned, eyes clearing instantly. "My _thing_?" he repeated in emphasis.

"I didn't mean it like that, Dean. I'm just… I don't know what to call it."

"Whatever, man. What about it?" Dean muttered, keeping his back against the counter.

"What is it? You've been holding onto it for six months, but do you even know what it is? Does _he_ know?"

Dean groaned and lowered his head. "I dunno. It's good. It feels really good, Sammy, but trying to label it, trying to call it something other than complicated is just… I dunno."

Sam nodded. "I'm just concerned about yeh, Dean. This is the first time you haven't given up since your year with Lisa and Ben, but I don't think you should be hangin onto something if it's this… complicated."

"I'll deal, Sam. I always deal," Dean said.

"You dealing, you coping—let's just say you don't do either of those things well," Sam argued gently. "You get wounded and the wound festers and you swallow it down until eventually you either explode or collapse into a slump."

Dean glared at his brother. "I'm fine, Sam," he said through gritted teeth.

"Why didn't you tell me about the kiss?" Sam blurted, "You tell me everything, Dean. What? You didn't think I could handle it or something?"

Dean's eyes widened. "I don't tell you everything!"

"Apparently!"

The brothers stared at each other intently, challenging their expressions. "I can't… Sammy," Dean spoke finally, pressing a knotted fist to his forehead.

"You can't what… Dean?" Sam pressed.

"I can't let go of this… whatever this is. I have questions. I'm confused all the freakin time. I'm running around in circles, but the one thing I don't have, the one thing I will never have again… is doubt. Do you know how good that feels? It outweighs everything, Sammy, everything."

Sam's own heart leapt to this declaration. "Really?"

"And dude… the kiss? Jesus," he sighed, lowering his fist. "Well, if my car isn't enough of an indication of how damn good…" he faltered, bringing his fist to his mouth now and biting down hard on it.

"It was that good, huh?" Sam said with a slightly teasing smile.

"Mind blowing," Dean corrected.

Sam cleared his throat. "Wow!"

Dean sank into a chair, folded his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them. "I dunno what to do, man. I feel like a chick. I wanna ask where this is goin and if this is serious, but I can't freakin do it!"

Sam pressed a hand on his brother's arm compassionately. "What did you say to Lisa?"

Dean pulled his head up. "Huh?"

"You know… how did you word all those questions? Maybe you can just… do the same thing with Cas?"

Dean pulled up in his chair slowly. "I uh… never asked those questions, Sammy. I guess we both just knew, you know…"

"Well… did you have doubts?" Sam asked.

"All the time," Dean admitted. "But you were in the cage and Cas was MIA so I just figured my doubts were because of that. I liked Lisa and Ben, but… we were comfortable with things the way they were."

"Did you… love her?" Sam asked reluctantly.

Dean's eyes lowered to the table. "I dunno. Like I said, it was comfortable." He pressed his lips together and squinted his eyes shut. "I'm comfortable with Cas, but it's been six months already and I'm sick of bein comfortable."

Sam tried to nod indifferently. "What do you want, Dean?" he asked gently.

The hunter lifted his melodramatic eyes. "More," he admitted almost in a whisper.

Sam could do no more than nod again. Dean Winchester had always been the type to run away from relationships. He'd love 'em and leave 'em as the saying went, but Sam had known since Luckless, that Dean would not want to run from this one. First off, his soul would never let him and also made running impossible simply by giving a piece over to Castiel. There was no running, no escaping, no way of really ending things. Dean's lack of doubt was a result of that enduring soul. Dean got up abruptly.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and call."

Sam watched his brother leave the house without another look back. Dean had never been anxious or nervous when it came to calling women, but with Castiel, it took him hours of contemplation before he was able to rev up enough courage to even think about calling. Sam went to the window to watch his brother cross the salvage yard, but before he could make it to the green mustang, he was blocked by an unexpected guest. Sam raced out to join Dean.

"Bobby, long time no see," Dean remarked with a smirk.

"Yeah well, that place you're bunkin in still belongs to me so…"

"Is that your subtle way of kickin us out?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam. Sam measured Bobby's expression.

"No, that's my subtle way of tellin ya to clean up after yourselves or I will boot ya both out!"

"We always do, Bobby," Sam insisted.

Bobby eyed Dean with that look, clearly stating that he was talking about him. "What? I ain't a slob," he whined.

"This ain't a social call, boys, I'm here because three more girls have turned up dead in Yellowstone National Park."

Dean remembered that park and the girl he had met there that turned out to be half-demon. The memories of her unfortunate death still bothered Dean, but he suppressed his emotions to ask: "What are we up against?"

Bobby's answer was plain. "It's a demon, Dean. Throats were slit and sulphur was found all over the bodies of the girls."

"That's careless," Sam remarked already heading for the Impala.

"Good," Dean added, following Sam. "I guess we'll meet you there, huh, Bobby?"

"Be careful, idjits," Bobby dismissed and walked to a white pick-up several feet from them.

On the drive, Sam checked his tablet for any more killings in the area prior to the three murdered girls. He glanced at Dean, bringing up a detail that had confused him but that he did not want to mention in front of Bobby. "You think this is just a little strange?" he asked, wondering if Dean would pick up on it.

"Yeah," Dean admitted after a pause then looked over at Sam with that look, stating his doubt about this hunt.

"What demon leaves that much sulphur just lying around?"

"You think Bobby's lyin?" Dean asked.

"No… but…"

"Maybe Bobby was lied to," Dean finished for him.

"Exactly," Sam said. It had been a while since they had been on the same wavelength what with Castiel now in the picture. Sam hid his smile. Hunting was their normal life. When they were on the road, when they were hunting monsters or demons or some other kind of evil, they were brothers. It was just him and Dean and no one else. Sam was starting to dislike sharing this connection.

"What do you think's goin on?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, gazing at his tablet. "I dunno, but something about this doesn't feel right."

Their eyes met briefly in agreement.

Dean and Sam met Bobby in a particularly dense forested area of the park. Standing with him and examining three bodies was an older woman, dark-skinned, a long plait down her back, and fiery green eyes. She was definitely close to Bobby's age, possibly younger. She wore tight jeans that formed to her long legs and a yellow tank top. Two interconnected hearts tattooed the slender shoulder blade.

Sam and Dean exchanged similar looks of supposition before approaching the two hunters. "Who's your friend, Bobby?" Dean asked before Sam could.

Bobby gazed down at the ground as though the answer was there before finally lifting his eyes to Dean. "This is Rebecca," he greeted in a low sort of grunt before taking the hunter's hand and pulling her forward. "Becks, these are the boys I was tellin you about."

"Oh," Rebecca murmured with a nod and a half-smile. "These are the ones you complain about, you mean," she corrected teasingly, taking first Dean's hand to shake then Sam's. "Hi, it's good to finally meet you."

"You too," Sam replied, attempting to smile at Bobby, but Bobby's eyes shifted over to a nearby tree instead.

"So what's goin on here? Anybody know?" Dean asked, bending down to examine one of the women. Just like the other two, her throat was slashed straight across, ear to ear.

"Demons are what's going on," Rebecca replied, casting the glow of her flashlight across the three exposed torsos.

Sam fixed his eyes on Dean's face, silently asking whether they should speak up about their concerns regarding the hunt. Rebecca was watching both of them with a hunter's eye, studying their expressions in an effort to read them. She did well.

"You don't think this is the work of demons, Sam?" she asked.

Dean cleared his throat and gestured to his brother. "That's Sam. I'm Dean, and we both think there's somethin up about this whole thing."

"As in what?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you know another kind of monster that leaves behind traces of sulphur?"

"You're calling that a trace?" Dean argued. "Come on!"

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

Dean shrugged. "All I'm sayin is there's somethin not right about this."

"Well, I'm still going on my instincts, and my instincts are telling me that this is the work of a demon." She brushed past Dean, fiery attitude keeping her head erect as she walked. "Comin Bobby?" she called over her shoulder.

"Nice choice, Bobby," Dean commented sarcastically before rolling his eyes.

Sam was busy looking for any kind of photo ID to identify the three girls who lay there.

"She's the best of the best," Bobby said and attempted to step past Dean when Dean grabbed his arm at the elbow. "

"She may be, but you're better, so I gotta ask: Is there something wrong with this picture?"

Bobby eased back. "It's weird," he mumbled, "but so what? It's not like demons are smart," he hissed.

"Bobby," Rebecca called again, standing several feet from them now, and tapping her slender foot in a pool of pale moonlight.

"Give me a sec, Becks," he called back, shifting his gaze back to Dean. "What do ya want from me, huh?" He snapped.

"I want you to act like a hunter, Bobby."

Bobby groaned. "I'll look into it, but if we are dealin with a demon, then you need to get your head back into the game instead of keepin it…" he gestured sharply upward, "up there!"

Bobby moved on past Dean just as Sam revealed the IDs he had found. "Dean?" he called.

"What the hell did he mean by that?" Dean hissed.

"Come on, Dean, it's not like Bobby couldn't figure it out," Sam muttered.

"You told him, didn't you?" Dean accused, anger boiling under his skin. "What the hell's wrong with you? That's not something he can digest easy!"

"I didn't tell him anything, dude! I think you're forgettin that he's a hunter! Plus… you and Cas are kind of… obvious."

Dean shot a glare at his brother, snatching the IDs out of his hands. "We need to have a chat with some people," he muttered, and stormed on ahead of Sam.

After making the proper stops to inform the police about the three dead girls, Dean and Sam drove through the town of Helena in Montana, a town all three hunters had seen before. Dean even ended up driving past a familiar house now up for sale. He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat.

"Dean?" Sam called softly.

"I'm just thinkin," he replied.

"We all thought it was Crowley who killed the other two girls. Obviously, if he didn't do it, then Bobby and Rebecca might be right, and you can't let your emotional attachment to a half-demon affect your judgment."

Dean pulled the car to the curb and put it in park to face his younger, patronizing brother. "Thanks for the lecture, Sam. I'll shove it where I shove all the other ones."

"Demons are not friendly," Sam justified. "I'm sorry, man, I'm just stating fact here."

"I never said they were friendly," Dean argued through gritted teeth. "I hate the bastards as much as any other hunter, but… here's a fact: Alison was different. She saved all our asses by helping Cas to finally waste Crowley."

"Yeah, after she sold you out!"

"Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later?" Dean snapped in frustration.

"Since when _aren't_ you?"

"Since this whole thing looks like a friggin set-up!"

Silence fell briefly as the car's engine purred beneath them. "A set-up for who?" Sam asked.

"The only other demon that takes up residence here."

Again, Dean was greeted with silence as Sam made a face so standard that Dean had no trouble reading every thought behind it. Instead of waiting for Sam to respond, he explained. "You don't get a half-demon without a whole one. I'm sure you know what obviously happened."

"A demon and a… human?" Sam guessed, eyes glassy.

"_You_ did it," Dean reminded.

"I did it because I was addicted to demon blood," Sam countered.

"Well, believe it or not, Alison's dad did it for something else."

"That's… impossible."

"Why does everyone keep sayin that? Look, we both learned a long friggin time ago that nothing is impossible."

"Except aliens," Sam blurted.

"Well, yeah, except aliens," Dean agreed, "but other than that…"

"Fine so a demon… fell in love with a human and… what? Decided to give up killing? It sounds ridiculous even saying it," Sam admitted.

Dean shrugged, taking the car out of park to resume driving. "Hey, some people gotta base horrible movies on some shred of truth, don't they?"

Dean was about to drive on past another familiar house when he noticed a white pick-up parked on the opposite side of the street. "Sonofabitch," he grunted, pulling the car in behind the pick-up and racing towards the house. Sam followed, but was suddenly grabbed from behind.

"Look who's come back," taunted the voice of a hunter Dean had met with before, one who had attempted to take out Alison while Garret took out Dean. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Winchesters!"

"Let him go!" Dean demanded.

"You know Gare was a good friend of mine, right? Until that bitch killed him!"

Dean pulled the Colt off his belt and aimed it in the hunter's face. "Let him go or so help me…"

"You can't do anything to me, Dean," the hunter snapped. "You're no better than the demons you screw…"

Sam had delivered a kick into the hunter's shin, breaking the tight hold long enough for him to escape. Once he had, he punched the hunter once across the jaw and once in the stomach. The hunter keeled over, allowing for the brothers to stand over him. "Your good friend tried wasting me," Dean growled.

"Well, I say good riddance to bad rubbish," the hunter panted. "You're no good for nothing now!"

Sam followed through on the action Dean was about to carry out, and with more force than the last two, he delivered a final punch into the hunter's face, putting him out. With a look of gratitude from Dean, the brothers ran to the house where Dean knew Jareth and his wife were the target. "Bobby, stop!" Dean cried, crossing the threshold to find Jareth standing in protection of his small wife while Bobby and Rebecca aimed their weapons.

"Dean," Bobby growled.

"He's obviously being framed, man!" Dean tried to defend for the demon that never looked or acted the part of a demon. Tonight, he was clad in gray sweatpants and t-shirt. "Bobby, come on! Just let 'em go!"

"He's a demon, Sam," Rebecca argued, throwing a flask full of holy water into Jareth's face. Despite his innocent appearance, the demon did cry out in agony, resulting in a scream of terror from the small woman behind him.

"Jareth!"

"I'm okay… Molly," Jareth panted. "I just… I want you to leave here. You're not safe, anymore." Jareth's small eyes appealed to Bobby in plea. "Let her go. She's human and she's done nothing wrong."

"No," Rebecca hollered ahead of Bobby. "No normal human actually falls for a demon. She probably helped you take those girls' lives."

Dean glanced to Bobby whose voice seemed to come out of nowhere. "Come on, Becks, we both know that's a stretch."

"Bobby, I know what I'm doing," she snapped at him.

Dean stepped in the way of Rebecca's and Bobby's weapons. "Sorry, man, but yeh ain't killin a human."

"Step out of the way, Sam," Rebecca demanded, eyeing Dean.

He rolled his eyes, motioned over to Sam for a second time and replied with "I'm Dean, and he's Sam—him over there, gigantor!"

Sam pursed his lips in annoyance but said nothing.

"Fine, then get out of my way, Dean or I will have no choice but to shoot you."

Dean smirked. "That would look really good on your resume. Hunter shoots another hunter because he wouldn't let her gank a human. Guess that's your good deed for the year, huh?"

"Man, you're mouthy for a traitor," Rebecca smirked.

"Nah, I'm just mouthy," he corrected. "You should leave now before I have no choice but to shoot you. That would be _my_ good deed for the year," he added snarkily.

She aimed her gun at his chest, but Bobby grabbed her wrist instinctively. "No," he ordered.

"But Bobby, he's… defending a demon," she choked, surprised that he, of all people, would turn on her.

"He's family," Bobby said, lowering her weapon with force, "and he's defending a human."

She snuffed. "Fine, the human can leave, but the demon stays," she bargained.

Jareth's wife Molly let out a cry and looped her arms around her husband's waist desperately. "No! I'm not leaving him! Kill me, I don't care!"

"Molly," Jareth purred into her hair, "please…"

"No," she stormed. "I lost my daughter! I am not losing you, too!"

Dean turned to face the couple, speaking in a low whisper directly to Molly. "You won't, alright, but you gotta trust me and Sam, and let us get you out of here."

Molly's expression changed to one of hope. "You'll… you'll protect my husband?"

"Yes," Dean vowed, taking her small hand.

She whimpered. "He means everything to me… he is all I have left, Dean."

Dean nodded. "I know the feeling," he murmured, but did not glimpse in the direction of his brother or Bobby. Both knew by now how he felt about them. "Go with Sam, okay?"

The small woman nodded her blond head and was escorted by Sam out of the house. Dean remained in front of Jareth.

"Dean, this isn't necessary," Jareth said, gripping the hunter's shoulder affectionately. "It had to come down to this eventually."

"It's not comin down to anything, man. You're gonna live through this; I made a promise to your wife and I'm not about to break it."

"Why, Dean?"

"Because family is everything, Jareth, everything!"

Rebecca was laughing now, gun raised to Dean's chest. "Human's gone, Dean. Time for you to go, too."

"I'm not movin," he declared, "So bring it on, bitch!" Dean gazed past her to Bobby who had been taking an observing look around. "What do you see, Bobby, huh? Do you see a monster here? Do you see someone who would kill three women just for freakin kicks?"

Bobby's voice was torn. "No," he admitted.

"Then let him go, man," Dean pleaded now. "He's not the monster you thought he was, and being a better hunter than any of us, you know that whatever's goin on is obviously a set-up!"

Bobby looked at Dean in defeat before speaking to Rebecca. "He's right, Becks. There was somethin fishy about this whole thing from the word go, and I just can't… in good conscience kill someone I know is probably innocent."

Rebecca stared at the hunter in awe-struck horror. "What is wrong with you?" she howled. "He's a demon! It doesn't matter that he loves a human or that he's pretending to live a normal life—he's a demon, and our job as hunters is to kill demons!"

"Evil," Sam corrected, stepping into view.

"What?" Rebecca snapped, glaring at him.

"Our job as hunters is to destroy evil. Jareth isn't evil. His wife doesn't think he's evil, and everyone in this room, except for you, doesn't think he's evil. You're one against three."

Rebecca looked to Bobby, but his expression remained solid. "Fine, then I can come to only one conclusion," she announced with a shrug. "You're all traitors and you…" she eyed Dean dangerously, "are in my way."

The shot she fired rang in Dean's ears, but he didn't feel the fall or the landing. He awoke very briefly to see the expressionless face of Castiel hovering over him, hand on his chest where the bullet had pierced through. "Cas?"

The pain was gone in an instant, but Castiel touched Dean's forehead before he could even offer his thanks to the angel.

He awoke hours later to find that he was completely alone in the guest room of Bobby's house. He left the room to find that the Impala was gone and could only assume that Bobby and Sam went for a drive, possibly for answers as to what really happened in Yellowstone. Dean went to the washroom, splashed cold water on his face, gripped tight to the edge of the sink and lifted his eyes to the mirror. He was starting to feel worn out, tired. Had he died yet again only to be brought back? When would his end really be the end? He lifted his shirt to examine the wound, but there was no evidence, not even a scar. His skin looked untouched. He lowered his shirt, walked through the house, and headed outside, hand on his chest. Standing next to the mustang, he closed his eyes.

"Cas… we need to talk. If you just take a minute out of your busy schedule, I'll make it quick." He opened his eyes, but Castiel was not standing there. "Cas! It's been six months, and that's a hell of a long time for me, but I still don't know…" he faltered, leaning against the mustang. "What the hell is happening? What is this?" He lowered his head, sighing so heavily that his chest quaked. "I don't want things to end but… we both know it shouldn't be this complicated."

Dean returned to the house feeling drained, spent, on the verge of giving up. He hated himself for feeling the very first dregs of doubt, but it was there. He went to the guestroom and collapsed on the bed, staring hard at the wall. He tried filtering through all his relationships, including a potential one with Jo that ended in tragedy before it ever really began. He was forced to remember Zachariah's words as they were placed into the mouth of his mother:

_Everybody leaves you, Dean. You noticed? Mommy. Daddy. Even Sam._

He may have been a giant dick, but he had a point. Now, he was going to lose Castiel, too. It was just a matter of time. It was always just a matter of time. He had no control over it; he simply had to watch it happen. Why did it hurt more knowing it was Castiel—Cas?

Because the angel had never left him before.

Even when the world had gone to Hell in a freakin hand basket and Sam was being ridden hard by Lucifer and all the angels had abandoned the planet, Cas stayed. Not just an angel, Cas was a comrade, a friend, the one who never left. If he could've faced that dick of an angel Zachariah once again—just gone back in time and was able to respond to Zachariah's claim, he would've said:

_Not everyone. Cas never left so you can just bite me! _

He rolled onto his back, chest aching with the fear that soon Castiel would leave. Zachariah would have been right all along and Dean would've been back to square one- worthless.

The door to the guestroom slammed shut, causing Dean to bolt upright, gripping his chest and breathing heavily. "Jesus, Bobby, you have a friggin poltergeist livin here or somethin?" The knot inside his chest loosened considerably however when he noticed a figure standing at the foot of his bed. "Cas?"

A low hum of moonlight through the drawn curtains enhanced the silhouette of the angel in the tan overcoat, expression drained of any emotion. He simply stood there as stiff as always. Dean climbed off the bed to approach him, deliberately stepping into his personal space. Castiel's mouth was drawn into a thin line, but there was a hint of a smile in his glowing blue eyes even though it had not shown up on his face.

"I think we need to…" he started, but the angel placed one finger on his lips, closing the small gap between them until the tip of Dean's nose was flush with his.

His voice was low, brittle, but intensely determined. "I don't want things to end, Dean," He paused, lowering his eyes. "Unless…"

"I don't, either, Cas," Dean interrupted. There was a beat of silence as the angel's eyes lifted again, the smile returning.

"I apologize," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For making… us… complicated."

"That was all me," Dean insisted, shivering pleasantly to their proximity. "I make everything complicated; it's part of my DNA."

"I would never leave you," the angel promised.

"I know, Cas…"

The kiss was born out of a deep connection- angel and hunter drawn to each other in ways that defied logic or reason. Dean had long since gotten over which vessel was which, and even though he felt a bit more comfortable with Castiel's female vessel, he couldn't exactly ignore the longing that twisted his stomach into knots whenever this angel happened to be around no matter which vessel he was currently riding. Remembering what Castiel had said about their previous make out session in the land of the fairies and then later in his car, he gripped the angel's shoulders to separate them reluctantly. Kissing Castiel was like inhaling warm sunlight. Seeing stars was not just an expression Dean could associate with a concussion, anymore. However, he wasn't just seeing stars but whole constellations glittering in a deep purple sky. He felt at ease, relaxed, in a state of Zen he had never experienced before. Not with Lisa, not with Cassie, not with anyone. Forcing his mind to remember Castiel's warning was like pushing a glass of rich smooth rye out of his reach. He was impressed with himself for doing it.

"The windows didn't break," he noted breathlessly.

"I thank you for practising self-control, Dean."

"Why didn't the windows break?" Dean asked, straightening to gaze down at the angel.

In the darkness of the room he smirked just a little, just enough to cause Dean's heart to flip. "I practised self-control. It is remarkably difficult, but it can be done providing we do not go too far."

Dean nodded. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Castiel tilted his eyes up in response to a call Dean could not hear but desperately wanted to. "Can you tell them you're busy?"

"They know I'm here… with you."

Dean panted, glancing up at the ceiling. "I reiterate, tell them you're busy."

Castiel's smirk moved into the comfortable vicinity of a smile. "I have to go. Try… try to be more careful. I do not recommend stepping in front of a loaded gun, again."

"Occupational hazard," Dean remarked with a playful grin. "Plus, if I stop getting shot, I won't get this kind of treatment. I'm thinkin I should make it a weekly thing."

"You had better be joking, Dean," Castiel said, voice dropping lower than Dean was used to.

"I'm half-joking," Dean said with a shrug. "I need to see you more than once every three months, Cas. I'm pretty much willing to do anything to make that happen."

The angel crossed his arms and stared sternly at Dean. "You acting reckless does not appeal to me."

"Yeah, well, you're stuck loving me so you can deal with it." Dean crossed his arms next as a challenge to the rigid angel. "Plus, I'm not much more than a game piece in this whole bigger picture thing, anyway."

Castiel's expression melted into one of compassion—pure and untouched by human flaw. Castiel's compassion reached inside Dean and clamped warm hands around his heart. "I do not know all about your role in the bigger picture, but to me, you are invaluable, Dean Winchester. Don't ever forget that. So for my sake, if not for your own, please at least make an effort to take care of yourself."

With that last plea, the angel was gone. Dean could not resist the smile that came to take over his entire face. _Take that, Zachariah, you bastard!_

A knock on the door only slightly shook him from his daze. "Hm?" he responded unable to put away the smile that was permanently glued to his face now.

"Dean?" He heard Sam call before opening the door slowly. "Dean, you decent?" Upon sight of his brother, Sam straightened. "Hey," he laughed. "Are you… okay?"

"Yep," Dean said.

"Sure, cause you look it."

"I'm great, man," Dean admitted, suddenly feeling a surge of energy pulse through his muscles. "I'm better than great, Sammy! I'm awesome!" He practically leapt at his brother, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "And you know why I'm awesome, Sammy?"

"Uh…"

"An angel loves me," Dean blurted, and punched his chest proudly. "Me! And not just an angel, an archangel! A freakin archangel, man!"

Sam's laugh was forced. "Oh… kay… time to stay off the kool-aid."

"Any jobs out there? I've gotta do somethin'! I'm so restless! I just need… something…"

"Actually," Sam started, clearing his throat, "Bobby and I just found out something about the last hunt."

Dean had to force his smile back for this. "Oh?"

"Bobby's not sure, but it looks like the one doin the killing in Yellowstone is… well… human."

"Shocker," Dean remarked. "So we take it to the cops?"

"We're gonna continue digging. Obviously, the hunters, including Bobby's girlfriend, missed something major."

Dean was already on his way to the kitchen to grab his jacket. "She's a friggin delight, by the way."

"Tell me about it," Sam muttered.

On their way out to the Impala, Sam paused and turned to face Dean. "So, it's serious?"

"What?" Dean stumbled since this seemed to come out of nowhere.

"You and Cas—you're serious? He saved you again, so I can only assume…"

Dean grinned. "It's serious."

Again, Sam was forcing a smile. "Good for you, man. You deserve to be happy."

Dean leaned against his Impala, smoothing the creases out of his shirt. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam opened the car door and slid into the passenger's side, clinging around the window to stare out at his brother. "Seriously, dude, you are way happier than I'm used to," he admitted.

Dean smirked, and climbed in behind the wheel, starting the car and letting her purr for a while. His mind was as Bobby had put it 'up there'. His voice was a blend of a sigh and a moan. "I'm invaluable, Sammy—invaluable."


End file.
